


I Now Pronounce You

by SoYoureClairevoyant



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, Canon Compliant, Established Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Established Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, M/M, Post-Canon, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:54:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26503237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoYoureClairevoyant/pseuds/SoYoureClairevoyant
Summary: Victuuri Wedding, anyone? Some pre- and post-wedding events, including anxiety attacks, family relationships, best friends helping best friends and maybe a strip tease. Join me on my journey into a wedding.
Relationships: Christophe Giacometti & Victor Nikiforov, Katsuki Yuuri & Victor Nikiforov, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Phichit Chulanont & Katsuki Yuuri, Phichit Chulanont & Victor Nikiforov, Phichit Chulanont/Christophe Giacometti
Comments: 3
Kudos: 68





	1. To Have and To Hold

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trash. Don't shame me.
> 
> My sister is planning her wedding right now, and I just know shit is going to go down. Thus, I came up with a few headcanons about what would happen at Victuuri's wedding.
> 
> I might come back to this to add a few edits when the rest of the story is written, but for the most part, it should remain the same.
> 
> Not beta'd, so please be kind.

“Fifteen minute warning, bud! Are you ready to get hitched?”

Phichit walked out of the bathroom straightening his tie and tucking it into his striking black waistcoat. The cut emphasized his lithe body and the color served to make his gray eyes sparkle against his tan skin. He grinned as he pulled his jacket off its hanger in the wardrobe, but stopped just short of putting his arm in it. His eyes widened just slightly at the sight waiting for him in the main sitting area.

Five minutes ago, when Phichit had left Yuuri in the suite, the groom was perfectly relaxed. His waistcoat and tie lay perfectly on his chest, and his jacket was buttoned and to show off his skater’s physique. His brown eyes had been lit up and the start of a blush crept over his cheeks. With his hair styled back away from his face, every emotion he felt was evident on it. Excitement, joy, love, he wore them freely. The groom sat in one of the fancy armchairs to prevent his suit from wrinkling, though he sat with his legs over the arms instead of in front of him. Old photos of him and Victor flashed by on the screen, and Yuuri smiled serenely at each memory. Though he yearned to text or call his fiance who was getting dressed in his own suite on the other side of the hotel, he had been content to wait until they both walked down the aisle, as they had agreed months ago. 

What happened in those five minutes?

Yuuri’s jacket and waistcoat now lay on the sofa in a heap. His tie was loosened almost to the point where the knot was undone and the top buttons of his shirt exposed the skin of his throat and collarbones. The faint pink blush on his cheeks had turned red and blotchy, and it was clear that he had run his hand through his hair many times, leaving it sticking straight out in some places. The groom paced back and forth in front of his best man, his eyes wild and unfocused and his voice low. Phichit took in the scene before him and barely made out what Yuuri was saying.

“What am I going to do? Our families are out there and our friends are out there. People bought plane tickets, and they sent gifts. There’s food for almost 200 people that’s going to go to waste. There’s an officiant that is going to be so angry with me when I tell her. What do I tell everyone? What do I do when he’s not there waiting for me? What do I do?”

Shit, it was a full-on anxiety attack. Phichit was a little out of practice for dealing with Yuuri’s Anxiety BrainTM, but luckily, it was a skill that never really went away. He put his jacket back in the wardrobe and stood in Yuuri’s path, framing his face with his hands and forcing their eyes to meet. Phichit did his best to exude calm, taking deep, even breaths to encourage the same from his best friend. However, it was too late for just deep breathing, as Yuuri was too distracted even to notice how he worried over the cuffs on his wrists.

“Yuuri, you need to calm down or you’ll make yourself sick. Focus on your breathing, in and out.” Phichit took a deep breath as an example. “You are not going to need to tell people anything. Victor is going to be there. He told me so himself last night and then again this morning.”

Yuuri searched Phichit’s face frantically, and swiped at the hands still holding his face. Phichit let him go and instead, picked up Yuuri’s discarded clothes from the floor so they wouldn’t wrinkle. His friend started pacing again, flapping his hands at his sides as if to restore feeling to them.

“But that was last night. What if he woke up this morning and-and-and decided he can’t deal with me, with all my baggage? What if he’s already gone? What if we do get married, and he wakes up tomorrow morning and wants a divorce?” Yuuri didn’t realize how badly the situation could go until that moment. His stomach turned, threatening to expel what little coffee and toast he had managed to eat that morning. He tasted something sour and suddenly doubled over with his head between his knees. “I think I’m gonna throw up.”

Phichit grabbed a trash can and put it in front of Yuuri, just in case. Then he pulled over one of the plush armchairs chairs from the sitting area and lowered his friend into it by the shoulders. Yuuri shook with nerves. He put his elbows on his knees and leaned forward as if to prepare for expulsion of his breakfast, but nothing came up. Phichit knelt next to him and tried again to offer ressurances.

“Yuuri, he loves you. He’s waiting for you right now. He is so excited to marry you.”

“Can you open a window or something? I can’t breathe. I need some air,” Yuuri gasped.

Phichit got up and threw open the large bay window, letting in the breeze from the ocean just a few meters away. He leaned against the frame and asked, “Do you want me to call Victor and---”

Yuuri’s head shot up and whipped around to stare down his best man. “NO! He can’t know about this! He has enough to deal with. He doesn’t need my anxiety ruining his day.” Yuuri dropped his head back into his hands, repeating softly, “It’s supposed to be his special day…"

“Yuuri, can you stay here for a few minutes while I at least tell the best man? Chris should know so he can keep Victor away and let the guests know we’re gonna be late.”

“Nobody ever expects the couple to arrive on time to their own wedding, do they? God, I’m so pathetic. They’re gonna hate me. They’re gonna hate both of us for ruining everything.”

“Everyone out there loves you, Yuuri...” Phichit’s phone rang before he could get anything else out. He answered as soon as he saw the green eyes looking out from a curly blond undercut. “Speak of the Devil, and he shall appear. Hi, Chris. What’s up?” He listened for a moment and then rolled his eyes so hard, he could see into the past. “Victor’s going into withdrawal...what a drama queen. Tell him to stick it. With any luck, he’ll see his groom in less than fifteen minutes.” 

Phichit froze when he realized what he had said. He sighed quietly, almost unable and unwilling to share what his best friend was going through, but he needed help. Chris was right there, and Victor was with him. The Thai man steeled himself against inevitable Japanese fury and said firmly but quietly, “Chris, he’s not doing so well. It’s an anxiety attack, but he won't accept any help. His mind is telling him that Victor won’t be at the end of the aisle waiting for him, that they’ll be divorced by tomorrow.” There was a pause on the other end of the line, then, “I don’t know. You think you can stall the crowd for a few extra minutes?”

As predicted, Yuuri chose that moment to grab at the phone, wrenching Phichit’s arm away from his face while the best man was occupied. “OW, YUURI, STOP IT! I will beat your ass, even if it is your wedding day!” He shoved Yuuri away and pinned him down on the floor with his leg while he continued the conversation. “I’m fine, Chris, thanks for asking, but he’s trying to take my phone. Just keep Victor away and ask the guests to wait.” A brief pause. “I dunno, tell them the grooms are preening or something. Yeah, I’ll text you. Thanks, Chris. ”

Phichit ended the call and massaged his arm. He rolled his shoulder, and relaxed when he realized Yuuri’s initial attack had used minimal strength. Yuuri must be exhausted. Phichit glared at him, but couldn't hold back the mirth in his voice as he let his friend up again.

“You little shit. That was a move you haven’t used since we were roommates. I can’t believe you almost remembered how to do that, or that you’d resort to it.”

Yuuri stood and went back to pacing, his cuffs now undone and his hair even more disheveled after the altercation. His eyes snapped to Phichit, though, and narrowed at the attempted humor. “This is not the time for jokes! _You told them!_ You’re supposed to help me! I can’t burden them with this.”

“Yuuri, you’ve been pushing me away since I got out of that bathroom. I want to help, but I can only do so much. Victor would probably be better than me at this point by now. Do you want me to just leave so you can panic in peace?”

Yuuri paused his pacing and let the question hang there for a moment before he clearly said, “Yes.”

Phichit widened his eyes and took a step towards Yuuri, arms outstretched in reconciliation. He couldn’t leave Yuuri alone. “I was kidding…”

“I’m not. Get out. Please. I just need to think.”

“Yuuri---”

“Please!” His voice wavered in fear and desperation. “Just a few minutes. I promise I’ll stay right here.”

Phichit took in the state of the room, and then looked back at Yuuri. He was spiraling, and there was only one thing Phichit could think of that would be able to pull him out. “I’m going to talk to the officiant,” he finally relented. “I’ll be back in five minutes.”

The Thai skater left his jacket and Yuuri as he stepped into the empty hallway, closing the door quietly behind him. Yuuri sank into the armchair again, tears already gathered on his eyelashes. He pressed his hands into his mouth to stifle the sob that wracked his body, but there was no point. He sat in the empty room, on what was supposed to be the happiest day of his life, and cried.

In the hallway, the sounds of a string quartet floated in from the beach, along with the murmur of conversation from the guests already seated and waiting for the ceremony to begin. Phichit closed his eyes and pressed the corner of his phone to his forehead to center himself. When he opened them again a moment later, determination lay behind them. He set his shoulders and sprinted towards the other side of the building. 


	2. For Better, For Worse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris and Victor get a concerning phone call about the other groom...

Chris leaned against the door frame to the bathroom in the suite, sipping Champagne with a smirk on his face. His black suit and waistcoat framed his figure beautifully, and the magenta tie complimented his emerald-green eyes. He had worn many suits in his life, but this one was a contender for his favorite. After all, it meant more. He was his best friend’s best man in this suit, and looked absolutely stunning doing it.

Said best friend stood in front of the mirror, tying and retying the matching magenta tie that would complete his bespoke wedding suit. It was wonderful seeing Victor so wound up. After so many years of cool, collected interviews and press-worthy smiles, the world would finally see what a flustered fool he could be. It was all thanks to a shy Japanese skater who had too much to drink. Chris could only hope Victor never got used to being married to Yuuri. The way Russia’s Hero made a fool of himself for the sake of love was too funny for everyone else.

“Damn this tie, Chris!” the aforementioned fool barked. “It won’t cooperate at all! I think I’ve tied it a thousand times already, and it just gets worse.”

Chris rolled his eyes and threw back the rest of his drink so he could set down his glass on the small table behind him. He stepped up to Victor’s side and took him by the shoulders, turning him so they faced each other. His nimble fingers undid the sloppy knot on Victor’s chest. This close, Chris could see every emotion unfiltered. There was excitement mixed with mild panic in his gorgeous ice-blue eyes. There was nervousness in every toss of his soft silver fringe. There was anticipation in the set of his heart-shaped smile, the one he didn’t know he saved just for Yuuri.

Chris hadn’t thought of Victor romantically in years, and didn’t now. However, it was impossible to deny the sheer beauty radiating off of him.  _ Katsuki Yuuri has excellent taste in men, _ Chris thought. _ If I wasn’t so happy for them, I might possibly be jealous. _

“Calm down, mon cher. We’ll have it perfect before you walk down that aisle, not that it will matter. You could probably walk out there naked and Yuuri would still look at you with stars in his eyes. I might, too, actually.” With practiced motions, Chris finished looping around the silk over itself so it lay just a few inches below Victor’s throat. “There we go! Try it now.”

He turned the Russian back around to face the mirror and watched the reflection tighten and adjust the silk so the knot sat just at his collar, striking against the white shirt beneath. Victor grinned at the joke and the tie and gestured to his best man to pass him the waistcoat in the wardrobe outside. 

“I just want everything perfect so Yuuri can enjoy it. It’s our special day, after all. He deserves it.”

“Have you seen the boy lately? He practically glows with joy every time you look at him.” Chris reappeared with Victor’s waistcoat and a new glass of Champagne. He waited until it, too, was on the groom’s person, then handed over the drink. A second glass appeared in his other hand and the two men clinked glasses in a toast.

“You probably don’t notice because you’re usually making heart eyes at him when he does that. It’s how I know you won’t suddenly change your mind and run away with me. You’re sure your relationship isn’t open? I have excellent references.”

Victor laughed and sipped his Champagne, always grateful for Chris’s antics to diffuse the tension currently living rent-free in Victor’s...everything. Besides, Victor knew Chris loved both him and Yuuri too much to ever even attempt to insert himself in their relationship. He played along anyway.

“Yes, Chris, I am sure. And yes, I did actually ask Yuuri so please don’t bother.”

Chris pouted for a moment but turned to leave the bathroom. He headed straight for Victor’s phone, unplugging it from the charger and slipping it into his own pocket. He had to bait the poor bastard on his last day of bachelorhood, so why not steal his phone, too? Make sure he can’t break his own rules.

“And when was the last time you spoke to your fiance, Victor?”   


The groom strode out of the bathroom straightening his suit jacket over his waistcoat. His blue eyes met mischievous green ones over the rims of their drinks and then flicked to the table where he had left his phone. He rolled them and held out his hand for it, his other still holding his Champagne glass close to his body

“I haven’t spoken to Yuuri since the night before last. We decided on no communication until the ceremony. Can I have my phone back, please?”

“You don’t need it right now, do you? Perhaps to call or text the other groom waiting for you patiently in his own suite?”

“I am not going to text Yuuri, as much as I want to. I figured the occasion calls for a few selfies, don’t you think?”   
  
Chris narrowed his eyes and tilted his head, blond curls flopping over to one side as he waited Victor out. The Russian was shameless, trying to break his own rules on his wedding day. Besides it wasn’t like he wouldn’t see Yuuri in a few minutes anyway, what was a few more?

“Sorry, cher, the phone stays with me until after the ceremony. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, after all.”

“Chris, that’s just cruel. It is my wedding day.”

“Which means you will see Yuuri in less than fifteen minutes. You’ll survive. Just think of how much better it will be when you finally set your beautiful blues on your man.”

Victor put down his drink and sank to his knees in front of Chris. Long, manicured fingers cradled an equally manicured but slightly wider hand. “I can feel the withdrawal symptoms, Chris. It’s agony. I just want to hear his voice, please. You can even monitor the call. Less than thirty seconds. Please, my dearest friend, you must help me in my moment of need.”

The Swiss man though for a moment, taking in the theatrical desperation in Victor’s voice. However, it rang with truth.  _ He really misses that boy, and it’s only been a day.  _ He set his glass down next to Victor’s and pulled his phone out of the inside pocket of his jacket. Rather than dial Yuuri, however, he pulled up the contact info for the other best man.

“I am not calling Yuuri. I am calling Phichit. Since you are being ridiculous, and I feel generous, you can have sixty seconds to talk to Yuuri. But it’s to the other best man to decide whether you both can handle it, fair?

Victor nodded vigorously, his silver fringe falling into his face. He pushed it back out of the way, waiting expectantly for Chris to dial.

“I can’t believe I’m enabling you like this,” Chris murmured, making Victor grin even wider from his spot on the floor. “You can get up, you dramatic fool.” Victor stood, still holding Chris’s hand, like he needed something to ground him. Chris, meanwhile, held the phone to his ear and waited for the line to engage. The first thing he heard was something about the Devil before Phichit greeted him. 

“Hey, Chris! What’s up?”   


Chris looked Victor dead in the eye, daring him to contradict anything Chris was about to say.

“Mon ami, my responsibility here says he is going to die unless he can hear his beloved’s voice. I tried to convince him not to call, you know. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that, but he is adamant.” Chris chuckled at his own joke, but his smile quickly turned to confusion and concern, like he hadn’t expected Phichit’s response. “With any luck? Phichit, what do you mean?”

Victor’s grin, too, faltered a bit, his brow furrowing as he stepped closer to better hear the other side of the conversation. Chris put a hand on his chest and pushed him away, clearly not wanting Victor to hear.

“Phichit, you’re going to scare me and Victor. What’s happened? Is it Yuuri?” Chris was silent for a long moment, his eyes widening with every passing second until they were emerald saucers. He held his hand palm out to Victor to keep him at arm’s length but also to reassure him everything was fine. Victor wasn’t stupid. He knew when someone was keeping something from him. Clearly, everything was not fine. Chris confirmed that a second later.

“Merde! When was the last time it was this bad?” Chris listened for a moment and then suddenly jerked the phone away from his ear. Victor heard shouting and, in a panic, made a grab for Chris’s phone. “What’s he doing over there?” the Swiss replied calmly as he ducked under Victor’s arm and into the bathroom. He slid in and shut the door behind him, leaving Victor to juggle the handle and attempt to piece together the situation from Chris’s half of the conversation.

Chris surveyed his reflection, glad to see Victor’s weak attempt to steal his phone hadn’t rumpled his suit too much. While he spoke to Phichit, he tugged at a few places on his outfit until all was straight again.

“What do I tell them?...Good idea. Most of them know how Victor is about his hair. Let me know if we can do anything for Yuuri on our end...Bonne chance.”

Chris ended the call and put his phone down next to the sink. He sighed heavily and hung his head over the sink. Once Victor found out about Yuuri’s anxiety attack, he was going to bolt to his lover’s side, even if he didn’t have a plan or couldn’t help anyway. Already, he knocked frantically on the bathroom door, calling for his friend to share what was going on, was Yuuri okay. Should the best man be honest and make this groom panic, too? Or should he keep him in the dark where ignorance was bliss?

The best man made a decision. He stood as straight as he could with his best trademark smile on his face. Imaginary wrinkles disappeared from his suit and coiffed locks fell in impeccable ringlets over his forehead. A cheeky wink completed the facade.

Chris was going to lie like his life depended on it.

He opened the door smoothly, ready with a plausible, if delicate ruse.

“Victor, fancy seeing you here. Thank you for checking the structural integrity of the door. I was worried about it.”

“Chris, is Yuuri alright? What was that shouting?”

Chris slipped past Victor into the suite right and strode towards the fluorescent yellow backpack sitting on the sofa in front of the window. He had packed it weeks ago, to the dismay of the entire wedding party. It held everything from tissues and concealer to snacks and travel-size hairspray. He had lovingly christened it “The Oh, Shit Kit,” reveling in how everyone thought it was both the ugliest thing they had ever seen and also totally unnecessary. It was the perfect distraction with a dash of “I told you so.” He crouched down to dig through it as he spoke, keeping his voice as jovial and carefree as he could without being obviously deceptive.

“Everything is fine, darling. One of the buttons on Yuuri’s jacket came loose and he was worried nobody would have a sewing kit on them so he could repair it before the ceremony. That’s all.” He found the pocket he was looking for and pulled out a miniature sewing kit. “You laughed at this bag, but it’s time has come to save the day! I’m going to pop down to the other suite and pass it on. We might be delayed a few minutes, but don’t worry, I’ll let your guests and the officiant know.”

Chris stood and faced Victor, who still stood incredulously in the bathroom doorway. The former smiled and flashed the needles and thread before he backed towards the door to the suite.

“You might take this time to fix your hair. It’s awfully disheveled after your attempt to steal my phone.”

Chris opened the door and stepped into the hallway, letting the door fall shut behind him with a click. He let out a long breath and started towards the exit at the end of the hall. The notes from a violin floated through the open doors and were joined by a cello, signalling the guests to take their seats for the impending ceremony. 

Just as the blond was about to step out and ask them to wait just a few minutes, a tan figure in a black suit sprinted towards him. It stopped abruptly, breathing even and mouth set in a line. It was one of the few times Chris had ever seen the Phichit without a smile, and it spoke volumes about the seriousness of the situation. He looked out at the guests still milling about and addressed Chris while simultaneously trying to catch the officiant’s attention.

“Are you handling crowd control?”    


Chris nodded. “Are you handling Yuuri?”   
  
“He kicked me out. Is Victor still in his suite?”

“It’s that bad?”   


“It’s that bad,” Phichit uttered grimly.   


Chris jerked his head the way he came. “Go get him.”

Phichit sprinted down the hall to Victor’s suite at the same time Chris set his shoulders and stepped outside to meet the curious looks of the crowd.


	3. For Richer, For Poorer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor comforts Yuuri.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry. If this reads as emotionally as it was to write, I sincerely apologize.
> 
> Special thanks to napsushi for helping me get unblocked and figure out some pacing problems.
> 
> Not beta'd, please be kind.

Victor stood outside Yuuri’s suite.

Shortly after Chris left, Phichit had come knocking on his door. Hammering, if Victor were being honest. Rather than waste time on pleasantries, the young Thai launched himself into the entry, pulling Victor by the elbow out into the hall. He explained the situation in full, Yuuri’s sudden anxiety attack, the call with Chris, the deception that was currently in place so as to not worry the guests. 

Victor stopped listening after hearing about Yuuri, frozen in place by shock. Not only was his fiance in the middle of a crisis, but he was in a crisis over whether Victor really wanted to marry him. It was a silly thought to say the least and preposterous at the most. Had the situation not been so dire, the groom might have been inclined to make a flippant remark about it. There were few things Victor was sure about in this world, and Yuuri was at the top of the list. Yuuri encouraged him and loved him for all he was a person, not his status or accomplishments. Yuuri was Victor’s North Star, pulling him out of the depths of despair when it seemed to everyone that he was on top of the world. Yuuri was his everything. There was no comparison.  _ I’m the one who’s unworthy _ , he thought as he followed Phichit around the corner to the hallway where Yuuri’s suite was located.

Phichit stepped back and nodded at the door, love and concern for his best friend showing in the wrinkle between his eyes. Victor nodded back solemnly and slowly turned the handle on the door, stepping through the small opening. Whatever he expected to find in that room, it hadn’t prepared him for the heartbreaking sight before him.

Yuuri was crying, bent in half in an armchair in the center of the room. His suit jacket and waistcoat lay over the back of the sofa on the other side of the room. Ugly, aggressive sobs wracked his body and were only slightly stifled by his hands covering his face. Flushed cheeks peaked out from under them, hot despite the breeze coming in through the open windows. Tears dropped from his cheeks and chin onto his once crisp dress shirt, leaving obvious dark, damp spots on his chest. The muscles under the shirt shook visibly with the effort to maintain even breaths, each one a struggle for oxygen.

Victor, closed the door quietly behind him. He stepped lightly towards the window, his dancer’s training evident in his lack of sound. Pulling the window shut and locking it cast the room in a blanket of almost complete silence that had an immediate effect on Yuuri’s state. He remained where he sat, still sobbing into his hands, but he no longer shook from the effort of them. In the few seconds it took Victor to cross the room and kneel in front of his love, the sobs dissolved into shaky breaths. After a moment, he spoke, clearly not expecting Victor to be the one currently taking care of him.

“Peach, I’m so scared I’ll never be enough for him.”

Katsuki Yuuri was an anxious person, and his glass skater’s heart was especially vulnerable to the doubts that plagued his mind. It had planted a cruel idea, and after months of planning and anticipation and emotion, that idea had grown into something terrible with a life of its own. Victor had the skills he needed to help Yuuri out of his garden of torture, but help was all he could do. Yuuri needed reassurances that he wasn’t weak, that he was loved just as much by his chosen family as his blood family, including Victor. He braced himself internally for what might come next.

Cool, pale hands pulled damp ones away from Yuuri’s face. Victor held them in one hand and reached out to cup Yuuri’s cheek with the other, brushing away hot tears with his thumb. Yuuri leaned into the contact instinctively and sighed at the comfort it brought. Though still flushed and shaky, his breathing evened out quickly at the familiar touch. A moment later, he opened his eyes. Chocolate brown flecked with cinnamon and mahogany looked out from beneath a shock of dark hair. Watery though they were, Victor offered a small smile at the sight. These were the eyes that he had fallen for at the banquet, fierce and determined and warm and inviting all at the same time. What a shame that these lovely eyes wept instead of sparkled.

Victor’s own ice-blue gaze was steady and sure. Flecks of green and gold danced in them despite the atmosphere in the room. It wasn’t what either of them had envisioned when they had discussed first looks, but after almost two days apart, the sight of each other was wonderful. Victor smiled just a little bit wider and shuffled closer to tenderly tip his forehead against Yuuri’s. The gesture made Yuuri cry again, this time in relief as silent tears left trails on his cheeks and added to his already soaked shirt.

“You’re still here,” he whispered hopefully.

Victor sighed contentedly. “My fiance needs me. Where else should I be?” he asked, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Not here. You should be in your suite with Chris, drinking and listening to him make jokes about a threesome while you fix your hair for the thousandth time. You’re supposed to be happy and glowing, not watching me fall apart and trying not to get tears on your wedding suit.”

Yuuri’s tears were, in fact, starting to drip onto Victor’s suit as well. They both looked down and, upon seeing the offending droplets, Victor let go of Yuuri’s hands so he could quickly peel it off and toss it away. Once that was done, he stood and gathered Yuuri up from the armchair to move them both to the small loveseat on the other side of the room. Victor sat with Yuuri in his lap, rocking and shushing in soft Russian, one hand on Yuuri’s back and the other stroking his hair. The younger man let a small sob escape into his fiance’s shoulder, but otherwise remained silent. When he had calmed again, he pulled back and wiped his tears away with his fingertips. 

“Victor, why do you wanna marry me?” Yuuri asked softly.

“What?” Victor responded incredulously.

“Why do you wanna marry me?” Yuuri repeated. “A five-time World Figure Skating Champion and two-time Olympic Gold Medalist does not just fall in love with a dime-a-dozen skater from Nowhere, Japan. You are beautiful, inside and out, with the biggest heart of anyone I know. You are thoughtful and caring and so creative and compassionate. You have a way with people and animals that is just unnatural.” He averted his gaze as he continued. “I am a stubborn ass, with anxiety up to here and the compulsion to throw hands over stupid shit people say on the internet. My career is unbalanced and unpredictable. I can’t ever manage to put my shoes away or put dirty laundry in the hamper, and the last time I tried to speak Russian, I accidentally told someone that Americans put contraceptives in their food. Why the hell do you wanna marry a mess like me?”   


Victor shook his head in wonder. “You know, I could ask you the same question,” he said, his voice unbelievably kind.

“I don’t know who it is you’re talking about, but the Yuuri I know is inspiring and determined. He has more courage and kindness in his little finger than most people have in their whole bodies. He puts as much thought and care into taking care of his family’s onsen as he does a performance on the ice. Moreover, he is the type of person who loves unconditionally and with his whole heart, this one right here.” Victor pressed his palm firmly to Yuuri’s heart, and waited for his words to sink in. “I, however, am selfish and vain. I spend far too much money on silly indulgences and forget to follow through on important promises. I am clingy and overly-affectionate, insecure and tactless. I talk constantly and only to avoid the smothering expectations that fill every silence. It’s a wonder the universe would give me someone who loves me in spite of all of that.”

For once, no flush burned on Yuuri’s cheeks as he listened to Victor’s adulations. His face was pale and solemn, eyes filled with adoration rather than tears. Still, the weed of doubt made him speak. “I keep thinking, you’re gonna realize you made a mistake marrying me. That you’ll wake up tomorrow, or next week or next year and regret all of it.”

Victorspoke with fervor, his eyes burning cold with intensity. “Listen to me, Yuuri. Nothing I have ever done concerning you has been a mistake. I have never regretted and will never regret anything that led me to you. Dancing with you at Sochi, following you to Japan, falling in love in China and Russia and Barcelona, picking out this suit, choosing to come here to this room. I wouldn’t trade those times for anything, except maybe even more time with you.”

Yuuri took a deep breath and leaned into Victor’s embrace, the Russian’s arms tightening around his waist. It was grounding, this hug. It wasn’t by any means magical or perfect, but it was warm and felt like home. They stayed like that, not saying anything, just taking comfort in each other.  _ To hell with the rules, _ Victor thought.  _ We never should have been apart. _

“I love you. I love you so much,” Yuuri whispered, turning his head to kiss Victor’s cheek.

“Oh, I love you, too. Do you think you’re well enough to get married today?”

Yuuri took that opportunity to pull away and lift Victor’s hand at the wrist, checking the time on his watch. It was much later than he initially thought. He looked back and forth between Victor and the watch and scrambled to his feet. 

“We’re half an hour late for our own wedding!”

Victor unfolded from the loveseat. He tugged at his waistcoat and said impishly, “Are we though?”

“Victor, we are  _ so late.  _ Everyone is going to be so---”

Victor cradled his fiance’s face, instantly instilling calm. “Yuuri, breathe. I saw Chris and Phichit explaining our tardiness to our guests and the officiant. Nobody will be angry. Besides, there is no wedding without us, so there’s no way we can be late.”

Yuuri nodded slowly, his eyes on Victor’s as he did so. At this, Victor smiled and put a kiss on Yuuri’s forehead.

“Everything will be fine. We’ll text our best men, tell them we need just a few minutes to make ourselves presentable and then, my love, we will get married. Did you bring a spare shirt?”

The grooms took turns in the bathroom, Yuuri washing away the last evidence of tears and Victor fixing his hair back in place. Victor texted both Chris and Phichit what was happening, and out the window, it seemed guests were settling back into their seats. Though the window was closed, one could swear the dulcet tones of a violin wove together with a cello and floated into the room. Yuuri quickly changed into the spare shirt that Phichit had brought for him and Victor collected the rest of Yuuri’s suit plus his own jacket from around the room. They finished dressing in silence, small smiles betraying the excitement under their otherwise calm demeanors. Once dressed, they appraised each other, looking for wrinkles or other obvious imperfections.

“You look so pretty, Vitya.”

A soft pink colored Victor’s cheekbones and complemented the heart-shaped smile that he gave his soon-to-be-husband. “Thank you, love. You look stunning yourself. And there are those eyes I fell so hard for.”

It was Yuuri’s turn to blush, a beautiful even color that vanished all traces of any emotion on his face that wasn’t love. Victor wasn’t done, though. He took Yuuri’s hands with his own and laced their fingers together.

“Yuuri, neither one of us is perfect, but what we have together is pretty damn close. Our love might be unconventional, but I will try my hardest to show you everyday how much stronger the two of us are because of it.”   
  
“Did you put that in your vows, because that’s pretty good.”

“I did not. That’s just for your ears. Shall we?”

Yuuri nodded and Victor opened the door to the hallway. Chris and Phichit were waiting for them, still impeccably dressed and smiling at the equally dapper grooms.

“Damn Yuuri, you cleaned up good.”

“Yeah, well...”

Yuuri lurched forward and hugged Phichit tight around the shoulders, and Phichit returned it in kind. Victor barely heard the thanks his fiance whispered into his best man’s ear before the two of them separated.

Chris gave Victor a knowing look, but rather than hug and muss each other’s outfits, he put a quick kiss on either one of his friend’s cheeks.

“Chris, I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“Let’s never find out, mon cher. Are you both ready?”

Victor and Yuuri shared a glance and reached for each other’s hands once more. 

“I’ve been ready since the day we met.”

Yuuri nodded in agreement.

“Okay, that’s adorable but gross. Save it for the ceremony. Let’s get these kids hitched!”

Phichit and Chris led the way towards the ceremony and the sounds of Edward MacDowell’s “ [ To a Wild Rose ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c_LVtvf2zIQ) .” Yuuri and Victor followed a few steps behind, not a doubt in their minds that they were loved.


	4. To Love and to Cherish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wedding reception, a gift and a last dance.

The ceremony was perfect.

Even with the emotional first looks earlier, both grooms could barely contain their joy at meeting each other at the end of the altar. The vows were solemn and serious, but laced with love and affection. Family and friends from all over the world shed tears when the two grooms shared a kiss and were at last declared husbands

The reception was even better, if it were possible. The sun setting behind them on the beach became the perfect start to the rest of the evening. Fairy lights strung through the trees cast a warm glow on the wedding party, the best men and the new Mr. and Mr. Katsuki-Nikiforov when the DJ announced them. Victor blushed when he heard his new name shouted to his loved ones, and Yuuri took that moment to pull him into a dip and kiss him to good-natured applause. The two of them only stopped when someone, possibly the young Yuri Plisetsky, shouted “GET A ROOM!” from the other side of the crowd.

“Well, that was a surprise,” Victor laughed, straightening his tie and kissing Yuuri’s temple as they made their way to the head table.

“I think you’ll find a few more tonight if you’re lucky,” Yuuri responded cryptically. Victor only had time to shoot him a confused look before Yuuri pulled him into the crowd to greet some of their guests.

The team of photographers flitted around capturing candids and staged shots of the event. Yuuri had argued that they really only needed one or two, but Victor was strangely psychic about these things, and he had been right to book the entire team of eight for the night. He had been adamant that as many memories as possible be documented for posterity. The occasional flashes lit up the room during the toasts from Yuuri’s father and Phichit, as well as Chris and even Yakov, whom Yuuri had asked to say a few words as Victor’s father-figure of over twenty years. Victor teared up when Yakov took the mic and simply said how proud he was that Victor had found someone who made him so happy and that they brought out the best in each other.

When the toasts were done and the food eaten, Victor and Yuuri cut a small cake and fed each other a bite, kissing the frosting off of each other’s mouths. Yuuri eventually reached over to smear a handful of the dessert onto Victor’s cheek. The Russian retaliated by grabbing one of his husband’s hands and licking frosting off his fingertips with a wink and a smirk. Yuuri blushed fiercely as Victor kissed his fingertips then his cheek, sharing the sugary mess.

Their first dance was magical. The fairy lights lit up the floor as the couple swayed in a small circle, lost in each other’s eyes and embrace. When the song ended, they shared another tender kiss and held hands all the way back to their table, where fresh drinks and a piece of cake waited for them.

Victor plopped down into his chair and pulled Yuuri’s knuckles to his lips, right over the shiny gold wedding band that adorned his hand.

“You know, I don’t think I could be any happier than I am right now,” the Russian sighed.

“Is that so?” Yuuri asked teasingly, a smile on his lips.

“It is impossible. There’s no way our wedding day could get any better than you sitting next to me right now.”

The smile changed into something more knowing, something mischievous, as Yuuri leaned forward to exchange looks at the best men. Phichit and Chris immediately left their seats and disappeared into the crowd that had taken up residence on the dance floor. Victor could just make out Phichit gesturing to the DJ and Chris lining up shots on the bar when the DJ slowly stopped the music and made an unexpected announcement.

“Ladies and gentlemen, if you would return to your seats, the groom has a gift for his new husband.”

Victor looked at Yuuri, brow furrowed and eyes suspicious. “I thought we agreed - no gifts.”

“Well, we also agreed on no communication before the ceremony, and remember how that went? Besides, it’s not so much a gift as another toast.” Phichit returned with a mic and handed it to Yuuri, squeezing Victor’s shoulder before leaving again to join Chris at the bar. Before Victor could register what was happening, Yuuri addressed the crowd.

“Good evening, everyone! Um, first of all, I - We - Victor and I want to thank you for being here today to celebrate with us. It means a lot that we have so many loved ones that think nothing of flying halfway across the world to see us get married. We are eternally grateful. We also want to thank our best men, without whom this day would have been a disaster. Phichit and Chris, we couldn’t have chosen better than you.” The best men waved from the bar, and the crowd laughed and applauded. It ended quickly and the atmosphere in the room suddenly changed. Yuuri took a deep breath before he spoke again.

“It’s not typical for a groom to make a toast at his own wedding,” he said nervously, “but Victor and I aren’t your typical couple. Many of you already know how Victor and I met. We competed against each other at the 2015 Grand Prix Final, and after a devastating loss, I came home to Hasestu. I was close to retiring, but thanks to a viral video of me skating Victor’s routine taken by some very nosy girls and posted online, he put his career on hold to pull me kicking and screaming towards my potential and my future, which included him. Needless to say, his plan worked. We fell in love, and we’ve been together ever since.” Victor took Yuuri’s hand and kissed his ring again. Yuuri squeezed his hand in response, silently thanking him for his support as he continued

“I would love to say that’s how it happened, but that isn’t the whole truth.” The murmur ran through the crowd, curious and expectant, but Yuuri wasn’t deterred. He gave Victor’s hand one more squeeze and stepped down from the head table. He meandered his way around tables and back towards Phichit and Chris as he continued talking. “Victor and I competed at the 2015 GPF, but it wasn’t until the banquet that we actually met for the first time. In all honesty, I didn’t want to be there, surrounded by so many people after crashing so hard. But thanks to a little liquid courage - a lot of liquid courage - my friends tell me I had a very good time. 

“I dragged young Yuri Plisetsky into a dance battle.” Yuuri paused to slap the younger Yuri’s shoulder, which prompted the blond to stand and follow the groom. “I took off my clothes and danced on a pole with Mr. Giacommetti.” Yuuri and Yuri had made it back to the bar and Chris and Yuuri each did a shot of something, clearly preparing for something. “And then, most importantly of all, I slow-danced with my future husband.” Another shot and Yuuri was grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Months of planning and rehearsal from so many people had gone into this surprise, he could only hope everything went as planned. “Here’s the kicker, though, I don’t remember any of it. That there’s a black curtain over that whole night, and the only way I know for sure that it happened, is from the photographic evidence. Yes, there are photos and video.”

One shot and Yuuri faced Victor, his eyes shining and his posture sure. “So, my gift to you, my dear husband - my love, my inspiration, my Vicchan - is a recreation of the night that I can’t remember and the one nobody else will ever let us forget.”

Victor sat slack-jawed at the head table, alone, as his husband and the best men did one more shot. The DJ, having been informed of the surprise, timed the start of the appropriate track to sync perfectly with the moment their shot glasses hit the bar.

_ Oh, you have got to be kidding me, _ Victor thought as Phichit appeared at his elbow. The Thai grasped his arm and grinned.

“You’re gonna want to see this up close!” he said.

Victor let himself be pulled to the edge of the dance floor.

The song was burned into Victor’s mind. It was the night he fell hard for Katsuki Yuuri, after all, but this was bizarre. In the span of five minutes, Yuuri had not only revealed what really happened in Sochi, but also done three shots and started a choreographed dance battle with Yuri Plisetsky. The teen didn’t even look annoyed like he usually did. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying himself as he and Yuuri threw themselves across the dance floor.

It only lasted a minute or two before the song cut off, a new beat taking its place. 

Victor’s eyes widened and a fond smile spread across his face at the sight of Chris “Sex On Ice” Giacommetti in hot pants and a dress shirt, spinning on a pole that had appeared out of nowhere. In the few seconds that the crowd was distracted by the Swiss, Yuuri had shed his own waistcoat and pants and somehow transformed his tie into a headband. With perfect timing and the grace of a dancer, Yuuri swung onto the pole himself. The two of them spun and twisted and danced together until their face and chests were flushed. At the proper moment, Yuuri lowered himself from the pole and let Chris have the final spin, the Swiss spinning with abandon and still no pants. Then the music changed one more time, into something slower but still charged with feeling. 

Yuuri had gotten his pants and tie back on in the time Chris finished. He held out his hand to Victor, inviting him onto the floor to finish the dance. It was almost exactly like Sochi, Yuuri having let his inhibitions down for the moment and living to move. The younger man leaned in close and whispered in his husband’s ear.

“Just follow my lead, okay?”

Victor let himself be pulled onto the floor into a tango/slow-dance hybrid, swept into the waiting arms of a tipsy and totally adorable Yuuri. The two of them moved together seamlessly within Yuuri’s choreography.  _ He’s beautiful, _ Victor thought, just like all those months ago when they had danced the first time.

When the song ended, Yuuri made sure he was holding Victor in a more ballroom-style pose. One hand remained on Victor’s hip, but the other caressed his face as the rest of the room fell away. Deep brown eyes gazed into ice blue ones with such an intensity, it was a wonder the two grooms even noticed that their guests were applauding them. The sound of a wolf-whistle broke their spell, and the two of them realized where they were again. 

The crowd of loved ones applauded and whistled at Yuuri’s toast and show. He, Yuri, Chris and Victor bowed to them comically, then Victor pulled each of them into a fierce hug, thanking them for his gift. Phichit approached the two grooms, his phone in hand and trademark grin threatening to split his face.

“Yuuri, we got it!”

“Got what, love?”

“I had them record the whole thing. You’ll be able to rewatch our dance whenever you want.”

Victor’s eyes widened with joy and he threw himself at his new husband. Yuuri caught him easily and put loud, quick kisses all over his head and face. They remained on the dance floor holding each other as the DJ put on another song and more guests coupled off to it.

Late evening came far too quickly. The tables cleared, guests offered their congratulations and left for the night. By the time midnight rolled around, it was only Yuuri, Victor and a few of their friends left sitting at an empty table and sharing one last glass of Champagne.

“So when do you leave for the honeymoon, my dears?” Chris tipped the last of his drink back leisurely.

“We’re not leaving for a few weeks yet,” Victor told him softly. Yuuri sat in his lap and dozed against his husband’s shoulder. He played with the short hair at the nape of Yuuri’s neck and gazed at him adoringly. “The season’s only just ended, so we’ll take some time here in Hasetsu before leaving for Greece.”

Phichit looked up from his Instagram drafts and chimed in from the other side of the table. “I’ve been meaning to ask, why Greece? Neither of you have ever been there, so…”

“Actually that’s why we picked it. We--” Yuuri yawned into Victor’s shoulder and then sat up, shaking his head quickly to wake up. “We wanted to go somewhere that neither of us had been so we could make memories there together.” 

“That’s so dumb. Why wouldn’t you just go somewhere where you know your way around and speak the language, like France or the states or something” Yuri’s voice came from under the table, where he had been sharing another piece of cake with Otabek. The Kazakh skater shook his head fondly.

“There’s something sweet about wanting to experience something new together. They want to learn how to be a married couple that way. It’s nice.”

Yuri made eye contact with his friend and scrambled out from under the table. When he managed to stand, he was blushing furiously. Otabek followed shortly after. “You two better bring me back a cool souvenir from Greece!”

Yuri grabbed his jacket and made to leave, but stopped a few steps from the table. He darted back to wrap his arms around Victor and Yuuri, surprising them both, then let go to grab his friend’s sleeve and pull him away. Otabek waved over his shoulder and followed willingly.

“Cherish that hug, Victor,” Yuuri teased sleepily. “A show of affection from Yurio will never be seen again.”

“Your husband speaks the truth, chere,” Chris intoned. He looked at the two of them, disheveled and tired but lovely nonetheless. He smiled and locked eyes with Phichit, the two of them silently agreeing to leave the couple for the evening.

“Chris, do you wanna walk back to the hotel together. I’m beat.”

“I’d be honored. Victor, Yuuri, don’t stay up too late.”

“And guys, congratulations again.” Phichit came around the table to hug the two grooms, and Chris planted a kiss on each of their cheeks. The best men left to get some rest. Victor and Yuuri were alone, save for the lone photographer packing up.

“Are you tired, my husband?”

“Just resting, my husband.”

“I can see that, but we can go back to the hotel if you want.”

Yuuri shook his head, his arms coming up to wrap around Victor’s shoulders. “Can we just stay a few minutes longer? I don’t want the night to end.”

Victor hugged Yuuri around the waist and whispered in his ear, “How about we compromise?”

Yuuri sat up, intrigued. “What kind of compromise?” he asked.

Victor pulled out his phone and cued up a slow song, pushing Yuuri out of his lap. Yuuri stood with a soft whine and Victor smiled. He put a kiss of Yuuri’s forehead and pulled him onto the dance floor.

“One more dance with your husband before we retire.” 

The two grooms swayed together, totally oblivious to the photographer surreptitiously taking photos of the last dance. The woman smiled at the couple and glanced down at her screen. A tall, raven-haired Japanese man rested his head on his husband’s shoulder, an even taller, silver-haired Russian. They stood together with their eyes closed, both of their faces totally relaxed but peaceful and content. In their matching suits with the fairy lights above them, they glowed like something ethereal, sunlight and shadow coming together at the edge of the world. Love shone through every detail. Knowing she wouldn’t get a better photo, she stood and packed her camera and let the happy couple dance in their little world for a while longer.

“Promise me we’ll dance like this again one day?” Yuuri asked, too tired to worry about censoring himself.

Victor put a kiss on Yuuri’s hair.

“I promise.”

“I love you, Vitya.”

“I love you, too, my Yuuri.”

“Until death do we part.”

“For as long as we both shall live.”


End file.
